


Leap Frog

by VivArney



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, Quantum Leap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:44:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivArney/pseuds/VivArney





	Leap Frog

Peter Caine sat at his desk at the 101st Precinct and tried to ignore the blinding flashes of lightning and booming thunder from the storm outside. It hadn't actually started raining yet, but it promised to be a real gully washer.

He'd stopped by his father's place for lunch to find the older Caine and Lo Si carrying in the plants that could be moved and covering those that couldn't with sheets of heavy plastic. He'd helped them finish then ran home and picked up a heavier jacket and his umbrella. A few of his fellow officers had teased him, pointing to the cloudless sky. They'd all scurried off to get rain gear, however, when they'd heard that Kwai Chang Caine was battening down the hatches.

"Hell of a show, isn't it?" Frank Strenlich asked as he wandered over with several file folders in his hands.

"Yeah," Peter agreed distractedly, frowning at the window.

"How're you coming on that report?"

"I'll have it ready before I leave," Peter promised. "Are you sure we should be using the computers with all that lightning?"

Strenlich shrugged. "Can't let a storm stop us. You know the perps won't. Besides everything's on surge protectors."

Peter sighed and returned to his report.

[ [ [ [ [

Behind the closed door of his dimly lit office, Kermit Griffin let his fingers dance across his computer keyboard, his head moving to music only he could hear. He had a cup of lukewarm coffee, a full bag of Gummi Bears and he was a man on a mission.

Hidden behind the ever present green glasses, his dark eyes were focused on the computer screen. He stopped typing as he waited for the information he'd requested to come up. Grinning, he took a handful of the gelatin treats from the brown paper bag and popped one into his mouth as he chewed, deep in thought.

As the text began to scroll across the screen, he smiled a dangerous grin that would have frightened anyone who saw it. "Oh, you slimy devil!" he muttered, leaning forward.

He'd been searching the Internet and sending out shielded e-mails for the creator of a new, very dangerous virus for days and he was finally getting somewhere. His eyes danced behind his glasses.

Soon, if his hunch was right, he would have the name of the person responsible for one of the most insidious computer viruses to be downloaded from the Internet. It had been named "The Miki Virus" after somebody's mother-in-law. The virus barged its way onto a computer's hard drive and went to work. Everything seemed fine on the surface, in fact, the computer sometimes worked better than ever, but the damage was being done in the background. The Miki virus erased some files, combined others and made it look as if another program was at fault. Thus far, it had eluded most of the best virus scanning programs on the market by masking itself as either text or saved game files. Fortunately, Kermit had his own high-powered virus program that had prevented it from getting access to his computer in the first place, but others hadn't been so lucky. Three banks, a credit card company and two newspapers had nearly been forced to shut down because their files had been corrupted. One of the banks had been forced to buy an entire new computer system because even formatting wouldn't clear the virus. It had caused no end of troubles for their depositors.

Kermit's grin widened as he leaned forward and began typing furiously. "I have you now!!" he announced in his best Darth Vader voice and laughed menacingly.

His door suddenly burst open.

"Kermit, you must move away from your computer," a familiar voice warned.

The ex-mercenary didn't look up. "One second, Caine," he said, still typing away.

There was a white hot flash of light and a tremendous boom. There was another flash and a loud pop from Kermit's computer. Kermit went suddenly limp as he and his chair slammed against the back wall of the office.

The detectives gasped collectively as the lights went out, plunging them into darkness. The lights came back on and Peter dashed to the glass enclosed room to find his father slumped in the doorway and Kermit lying in a heap on the floor. "Pop, what the hell happened?"

Caine gestured vaguely toward the window and the storm raging outside. "I saw the lightning strike his computer... he was in great danger. I tried to..." His body drained of energy, he collapsed in Peter's arms.

"I need some help here!" Peter shouted.

Jody, Strenlich and Captain Simms came running.

Peter handed his father off to Strenlich and Jody, knowing somehow that the older man only needed rest. Whatever had he'd done to try and help Kermit had exhausted him. Peter and Karen Simms rushed to where Kermit lay on the floor.

Mindful of the glass from Kermit's imploded monitor, they gently turned him onto his back. The ex-mercenary was heavier than he looked. Peter reached down and loosened Kermit's tie.

"Do we need an ambulance?" Frank asked, returning from where he and Jody had laid Caine on one of the benches in the corridor. Jody had offered to stay with Caine and Strenlich had agreed.

"Yes... No!"

"Which is it, Peter?" Strenlich asked impatiently.

Karen Simms sighed. "It'll take a while to get here in this storm, Frank, but go ahead and call the paramedics."

Peter frowned. He was getting mixed signals. Kermit was breathing all right, but he didn't like the look of the scratches on his face. "I don't think we should move him too far until he comes to."

"What? Peter, Kermit's injured. He needs medical attention," Simms insisted, trying to keep her personal feelings for Kermit from overwhelming her.

Peter blinked several times then shook his head as if trying to clear it. It was times like this when being a Shaolin cop confused the hell out of him. "I don't know why exactly, Captain, but I get this feeling that we shouldn't move him just yet. At least wait til Pop gets a chance to have a look at him."

Simms frowned, but nodded. She knew the wonders this young man and his father were capable of. "All right, Peter, we'll follow your instincts for now. Frank, would you please bring a couple of blankets in here? We may as well make him comfortable."

[ [ [ [ [

Slightly dazed, Sam Beckett held his breath as he waited for the feeling of disorientation that always followed a Leap to pass. The feeling was similar to the dizziness that often comes when a person stands up too quickly after being seated for a long time. It wasn't bad, just a little uncomfortable and, after almost four years, he was used to it. The tiled floor beneath him was cold and smooth, but his head rested on warm softness. The blanket covering him was warm, scratchy and smelled of plastic as if it had just been taken from its packaging. He opened his eyes to find everything had a soft, green tinge. A woman's face, clouded with worry, stared down at him. "Oh, boy."

"Kermit?" she asked.

Okay, he had Leaped into somebody named Kermit - that was a start - and the warm softness beneath his head was the woman's lap.

"Is he coming around?" a man's voice asked. The voice's owner appeared. His hazel eyes were filled with concern as they stared out from beneath dark tousled hair.

"I think so," she replied. "Kermit?" Soft fingers brushed gently at the hair at his temples.

Sam licked his dry lips and groaned.

"Jody, go get some water," the man called.

The rim of a paper cup touched his lips a moment later and cool water pooled in his mouth. He swallowed gratefully. "Thanks," he whispered.

He could hear a storm raging outside and see occasional flashes of lightening brightening the otherwise dimly lit room.

Something had happened to worry these people, but he wasn't sure just what it was. Several questions came to mind. What was he doing on the floor? He was a little sore, but didn't think the pain was life-threatening, it was more in keeping with having been thrown into a wall or a particularly bad fall. Whatever had happened to this Kermit had been enough to knock him unconscious just before he'd Leaped in. What had it been? He'd have to wait for some answers from Al, but he could probably get away with a bit of 'traumatic amnesia' for a little while. "What...."

"What happened?" she asked.

He nodded, swallowing again.

The woman threw a worried glance at the dark haired man.

"You don't remember?" he asked.

"All I remember is a bright flash," Sam admitted truthfully.

The other man told him what had happened. "I guess Pop put a little too much English on that Hand of a Thousand Bells," he ended with a grin.

"I guess so." He moved to sit up, but the woman put her hands on his shoulders to keep him down.

"I'd rather you wait until we have somebody look you over," she told him. "You were unconscious for a few minutes."

Sam nodded. He felt a little dizzy anyway.

"Pop," the man called, looking away. "Kermit's awake."

Another man came into his limited field of vision. Sam could see the resemblance between the two men immediately. He was older, with longish greying hair and worried eyes the same color as his son's. He placed his hand three or four inches above Sam's chest and moved it down the length of Sam's body. He frowned in confusion, then did it again. He glanced over at his son and the woman then gestured for them to help Sam up. "You are dizzy?" he asked.Sam nodded as the younger man stood and helped him up off the floor and into a desk chair. "Yeah, a bit."

The older man nodded and pulled a leaf from the pouch at his hip. "Chew this, the dizziness will pass."

Sam hesitated.

"Come on, Kermit, you know Pop knows his stuff," the son urged.

Sam looked doubtful, but took the leaf. He stuck it into his mouth and chewed. It tasted vaguely like peppermint and something else, too, but the dizziness was passing. "Thanks," he said.

The older man just shrugged.

"You're sure you're all right?" the woman asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"All right, everybody," the woman said as she got up off the floor with the younger man's help and stepped out of the room. "He's okay. Let's get back to work."

The younger man hesitated. "You're sure you're okay," he asked worriedly.

"I will stay with him, Peter," the older man said.

Peter smiled. "Thanks, Pop," he said. "Are you okay?"

The older man nodded. "Yes, my son, I was merely... drained."  
Sam looked from one man to the other. Whatever had happened to Kermit, the older man had been involved somehow. He could sense no anger in the older man, so it hadn't been a fight. Peter had mentioned something about a 'Hand of a Thousand Bells' but Sam had no idea what that could be.

Peter put an arm across his father's shoulders and smiled before he left the room.

Sam looked down at his clothing. He wore a white shirt, dark suit and tie. He stretched his leg to see the top of a white sock encased in a black shoe. He frowned again. Everything still had that weird green tinge. He reached up and felt his face, wondering if his vision had been damaged, to find a pair of green sunglasses covering his eyes. He removed them and looked around. That was more like it. He laid the glasses on the desk and sighed. The office, what he could see of it, was full of computer parts and manuals. A small clock radio rested atop a four drawer filing cabinet, it's glowing green numbers reading 3:30pm. A space shuttle diagram hung from the nearby wall and a bulletin board held a few memos with an official looking seal at the top. He frowned. There were no personal belongings other than the shuttle poster... no clues to this man's personality.

The older man closed the door behind his son, pulled a chair closer to Sam and sat down. There was worry in his weatherworn features. "I am Kwai Chang Caine," he said softly.

"Where is Kermit?"

"I'm sorry," Sam asked in surprise.

"There was an accident in this room. Kermit was injured... knocked unconscious... You are not Kermit."

"I... Why didn't you tell the others?"

"I did not wish to. It would only confuse and frighten them. They are worried about their friend, as am I. You are not Kermit."

"No, I'm not."

"Where is Kermit?"

"Safe. He's in good hands. If he was hurt, there are doctors there who can help him."

"Who are you?"

"I'm..." a small battle went on in Sam's mind. Ordinarily, he didn't tell people who he really was, but ordinarily, people couldn't tell at a glance that he wasn't the person he'd Leaped into. "My name is Sam Beckett. I'm a time traveler."

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know yet."

"Do you intend to harm my son or his friends?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I'm here to help. In the original history, something went wrong. I'm here to try to fix it."

Caine nodded. "I will help you."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I am sure my son and his friends would like to have their friend returned to them." He grinned. "As my son would say: It is a Shaolin thing."

Sam couldn't suppress a grin. "I'm waiting for Al to show up. He usually gives me information about who I am, where I am and what I'm there to do."

"You appear to be Kermit Griffin," Caine told him. "He was once a mercenary..."

Sam listened as Caine quickly explained about Kermit's relationship with Paul Blaisdell, Peter Caine, Karen Simms and his co-workers.

"Kermit is a good man," Caine told him. "He cares deeply for those he has allowed into his heart. The things he has seen and done in this life trouble him greatly - perhaps more than he will admit. One day, perhaps, he will find peace."

He went on to tell Sam what had happened in the last few moments before he arrived.

He glanced over at Kermit's computer. The monitor was a melted wreck. Anyone near it at the time would have been sprayed with shards of glass and possibly burned. There was some glass on the floor and some on his shirt, but, aside from a few places on his face that stung slightly when he touched them, he didn't feel as if he'd been cut too badly. It could have been much worse. The computer itself didn't look like it was in much better condition. According to Caine, there had been a tremendous bolt of lightening just before he'd arrived and it had pretty much destroyed the computer.

"Oh, boy," he muttered again.

[ [ [ [ [

Kermit woke to bright lights and worried voices. He blinked as he looked around, missing the green darkness of his glasses. What the hell had happened? The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was Caine coming in and then he was suddenly flying across the room to hit the back wall of his office. He didn't see anybody he recognized and this certainly didn't look like any emergency room he'd ever been in.

"I have got to lay off the Gummi Bears," he said softly, reaching up to touch the very painful spot on the back of his head.

"Can you remember your name?" a black lady in a white coat asked, looking down at him.

"Oh yeah," he answered with a groan. His whole body ached.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Verbena Beeks," she answered. "You had a bad fall and you've got a couple of very nasty bruises, but you'll be fine.  
Can you give me your name?"

"If I know my friends, you already know it," he said. Something about this place bothered him and he was in full mercenary mode.

"I just want to make sure you don't have any brain damage," she said softly.

"Kermit Griffin," he answered. "I feel fine. When can I get out of here?"

"We'll have you out of here as soon as possible."

"And that will be?"

"Soon." She gestured to a small tray. "Would you like something to drink?"

He shook his head.

"It's just water and juice."

He shook his head again. "No thanks. I'm not into poison this week."

She frowned then shrugged and left the room.

He sat up and looked around. The room was fairly large with a couple of chairs beside a table and the large hospital bed he was lying on. A few books lay on the table near the door and the tray the woman had left still sat on the bedside table. He started to get out of bed only to find a wide strap across his hips.

He made quick work of the buckle and slid off the bed. He immediately dropped to the floor as he was overwhelmed by dizziness and his legs collapsed under him. Cursing, he used the railing on the bed to pull himself to his feet and stood beside the bed, breathing heavily at the effort. He let himself adjust to the new position before he tried moving toward the door. The dizziness finally eased off a little and he stumbled across the room, using the furniture to keep him upright.

He frowned as he looked at the door. There was no knob. What kind of place was this? He started to make his way back to the bed but one of the chairs skidded when he put his weight on it and he landed on the floor before everything went black.

[ [ [ [ [

Karen Simms insisted that "Kermit" go home and get some rest, but Caine offered to keep an eye on him overnight so Peter and his father took him to Caine's apartment. The rain had slacked off and the sun was actually coming out.

Peter had seemed slightly confused and he assumed the real Kermit would have protested the "coddling," but Sam felt he needed to remain near the priest at least for a little while.

Especially since Al had yet to put in an appearance.

At the apartment, Sam sat in the only chair and watched Caine and Peter do some sort of martial arts sparring. It seemed to relax them and Sam wished he could join them, but doubted Caine would allow it. He wasn't sure just how much martial arts training Kermit might have and he didn't want to confuse Peter. He looked around him, curiosity getting the better of him. The green glasses hiding his fascination with the contents of Caine's apartment.

There were jars and bottles on all the shelves, containing all manner of dried stems, roots and leaves. The whole place was fragrant with slowly smoldering incense and the warm smell of melting wax from the seemingly hundreds of candles around the rooms. After a while, Peter left to get dinner for the three of them.

"Hey, Sam!" Al called and Sam turned to see his friend, glowing slightly in the near darkness of Caine's candlelit rooms. "What'd ya do leap into a monastery?"

"Where have you been?"

"Oh, we've been having a great time. The guy you leaped into... Kermit Griffin, he's been "difficult" according to Verbena.  
He won't answer questions and he won't stay put."

"Huh?"

Al shrugged. "He fell off the bed in the waiting room when you Leaped and whacked his head pretty hard on the bed frame or something. He's got a whale of a concussion and he keeps getting out of the bed. We've had to put him back twice."

"And you can't sedate him because of the concussion."

Al nodded.

Caine walked in from the other room and frowned as he spotted Al. "Who is this?" he asked.

"That's Al. I told you he'd be here sooner or later."

"He can see me!" Al yelped. "Jeez, Sam!"

"It's okay, Al. This is Kwai Chang Caine. He's a good friend of Kermit's."

Caine bowed and Al backed away in worry and disbelief.  
"Nobody's supposed to be able to see me, Sam."

"Kids and animals can see you, Al. Caine's a Shambala Master. He knew I wasn't Kermit right off."

"I have not told my son of this," Caine said quietly. "He is already worried about his friend and this would only make things worse."

"Any idea why I'm here, Al?"

The Project Observer shook his head. "Ziggy's got nada, Sam, and Griffin's not talkin'."

"He will not."

Sam and Al stared at him. "Why not?" Sam asked.

"As I told you earlier, Kermit was once a mercenary. He will assume he has been captured by an enemy and is about to be interrogated."

"So, how do we prove to him that he's safe?" Al asked.

"I do not know. It will not be easy. Especially if he is injured."

"How...?"

Caine told the hologram what had happened in Kermit's office earlier that afternoon.

"Well, that explains the head injury. Beeks kept insisting he couldn't have gotten it just falling off the bed. How are you feelin', Sam?"

"I'm fine. I think I Leaped in right in the middle of it all. Kermit hit the wall and I hit the floor."

"I will have to apologize to Kermit," Caine said quietly. "I saw the explosion and reacted too quickly."

"I'm sure he'd rather have a bad headache than a face full of glass, Caine," Sam said. "I saw that computer, Al, it's totally wrecked. Kermit might not have been killed, but he would have been a lot worse off if Caine hadn't shoved him across the room. I just wish I knew why I'm here."

"Well, we've got some time to think about it, Kermit's passed out again," Al told them, checking the handlink. "Maybe you oughta just go on to bed or something, Sam, I'll come and wake you if Ziggy comes up with anything."

[ [ [ [ [

Kermit opened his eyes and looked around. So, it hadn't been a dream after all. He was still in the strange white room. When he tried to sit up, he found the strap across his hips had been joined by one across his chest and he had a terrible headache.

Dr. Beeks was sitting beside the bed, reading from one of the books. "How are you feeling?"

"Why am I strapped in?"

"So you'll stay in bed."

"No shit."

She stood and glared down at him. "Listen to me, Mr. Griffin. You have a serious concussion. You have to stay in bed for at least twenty-four hours."

"What is this place?"

"It's a hospital."

"Bull!"

"I'm trying to help you, but if you're going to be difficult..."

"What kind of hospital has doors with no knobs?"

"You are safe, Mr. Griffin. No one will hurt you here."

"Yeah, right." He closed his eyes and turned away.

[ [ [ [ [

Peter returned with two bags of Chinese food and a six-pack of beer.

Sam helped the younger man unload the bags while Caine made tea and set out plates and chopsticks. Peter started to hand one of the bottles of beer to Sam then thought better of it. "I'm sorry, Kermit, I didn't think. After what happened this afternoon, maybe beer isn't such a good idea."

"You're probably right, Peter. I'll just have some tea with your father."

Peter frowned. "Yeah, me too." He set the carton off to the side. "I've got to be back at the precinct early tomorrow anyway."

As they ate, Peter talked about a case that he'd been working on that week. Sam stayed silent. It didn't seem to surprise Peter, so he assumed Kermit would have kept quiet as well. Sam felt comfortable with this unusual father and son team. Peter was a little hyper, but that was countered by Caine's serenity.

"Kermit?"

"I'm sorry, Peter, what?" Sam suddenly realized Peter had asked him a question.

"Are you supposed to be in on that stake-out tomorrow afternoon?"

An image of a hastily scrawled note on Kermit's desk calendar flashed in his mind. "Uh... yeah."

"You want to ride with me?"

"Sure." He rubbed his eyes. The green glasses were starting to bother him. Caine had told him that Kermit rarely removed them, but everything looked very strange. Besides, Kermit was used to them, he wasn't.

"I guess we'd better call it a night," Peter said.

The three of them stood to put away the remains of their supper. Peter frowned down at the food remaining on Sam's plate. "You didn't eat much. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Peter," he assured him. "I'm just tired, that's all."

Peter looked doubtful, but shrugged. "Okay, I'll be back to pick you up in the morning..."

"You are always welcome to spend the night here, my son," Caine interrupted.

Peter smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Pop."

Caine left the room and returned a few moments later carrying pillows and blankets. Peter and Sam made pallets on the floor while Caine finished cleaning up after their meal.

Sam had stripped to his shorts and T-shirt and was sitting on the floor, preparing to lie down when Caine came over and held out a small cup of something hot and fragrant.

"What's this?"

"It will help you sleep," the priest answered.

"Thank you... for everything, Caine."

Caine bowed slightly as Sam took the delicate cup and sipped at the contents.

"It's wonderful!" Sam drained the cup and handed it back to Caine and settled himself on the pallet and pulled the heavy blanket over him.

They said their goodnights and Caine doused the candles. Sam fell asleep to the sound of rain pattering gently on the windows.

[ [ [ [ [

Kermit looked up from the battered copy of PC Week as the lights flickered for the second time in what seemed like about twenty minutes. He wore no watch only the weird white pajamas, but he'd always had a pretty good sense of time.

Dr. Beeks had been in the room the first time the lights had flickered. She'd frowned in concern then left the stack of badly outdated computer magazines on the bedside table and reminded him to ring if he needed anything before she left in a hurry.

The magazines were so old that they were trumpeting the release of DOS 6.22, but they were better than staring at the unadorned whiteness of the room's four walls. He tossed the magazine across the room.

They still hadn't let him out of bed, except for escorted trips to the small bathroom, but he was actually a bit glad for the help. He still felt very dizzy and he wondered what they were giving him to produce the effect and how they were administering it since he'd refused both food and water since he'd awakened.  
There were also definite gaps in his memory and he didn't like that one bit.

The lights flickered again then went out entirely. The building shook violently for a moment then the lights came on again. They were dim, but they were on.

[ [ [ [ [

Sam woke at a gentle touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Caine on one knee beside him. "Morning already?"

Caine nodded. "Peter is in the shower. Would you like tea?"

"Please." Sam slipped out from under the blanket and shivered in the pre-dawn chill. He quickly dressed and joined Caine at the work table. The tea warmed him considerably.

"Your friend has not returned," Caine said a while later.

"I'm starting to get worried." He shrugged. "Of course, it could be because you can see him. He gets... upset when that happens."

"You are feeling better?"

"Yes, much."

Caine handed him a bowl of rice and picked up another for himself and began to eat.

"None for Peter?"

Caine shrugged. "Peter does not like rice," he said simply. "He prefers... 'Egg McMuffin'."

Sam grinned and started in on the rice. It was sweet and tasted wonderful. Peter must keep a change of clothes at this father's place, Sam thought as the younger man emerged from the small bathroom, wearing a different shirt and pants than he'd had on the night before.

Peter made a face at the bowls of rice Sam and his father held.  
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

"Fine."

Peter took a cup and poured himself some tea. "I figured we'd swing by your place so you could shower and change before we went to the precinct."

"Works for me," Sam agreed. He finished the rice and set the bowl on the table. "Thanks again, Caine."

"Yeah, thanks, Pop," Peter said. He gave his father a quick hug. "I'm not sure how long this stake-out will last, but I'll be over tomorrow to help you at the park."

"Be careful, my son. You take care as well, Kermit."Sam grinned.

"Always."

Caine handed him Kermit's green glasses and Sam slipped them on. The younger men left and Caine went into his meditation room.

[ [ [ [ [

Sam removed the green glasses as he stepped into the bathroom of Kermit's apartment and got his first look at Kermit Griffin.

The reflection was that of a man somewhere in his forties. He was a few inches shorter than Sam and solidly built. Kermit was probably much stronger than he looked, but he certainly wasn't as lean as Sam or Peter. The other man's face would never be a threat to the pretty boy, Tom Cruise types, but would be attractive enough if it weren't for the sadness Sam saw in the dark eyes and the frown that seemed to be fixed on his face. Kermit's hair was longer than Sam would have expected from either a cop or a mercenary. It was thick and black with a white streak just over his right eyebrow and greying at the temples and sideburns.

Sam slipped the glasses back on and nodded. Kermit just didn't look right without the green lenses.

He shrugged and removed the glasses. He set them on the countertop, quickly stripped and stepped into the shower.

Sam felt much better after he'd had a chance to shower and  
shave. He'd pulled on a dark suit almost identical to the one that now lay in a hamper in Kermit's bedroom.

Peter had decided to wait downstairs in the car, so Sam didn't want to waste time exploring the ex-mercenary's apartment.  
He did stop in front of a row of four framed photos on one of the bookcases.

The first picture was of a much younger Kermit, wearing a green t-shirt, camouflage pants, boots and a green baseball cap with some sort of bird on it - it was difficult to tell what it was. He was leaning against a weatherbeaten jeep and grinning. An older man stood nearby with his arms across the shoulders of a young man and a lovely redhead. Two other men stood behind the jeep. The group had a triumphant look on their faces.

The second showed a pretty, dark-haired woman with her arms around a dour looking teenage boy and a young girl with long blonde braids that hung nearly to her waist. The older woman resembled Kermit and he assumed she was his sister.

The third was of a young man in a police uniform. He looked stiff, but proud. Like the woman, he had a strong resemblance to Kermit and Sam guessed this was Kermit's brother.

The fourth was a posed portrait of the older man from the first photo, a smiling blonde woman with dark glasses, two little girls, one blonde, the other brunette and a teenaged Peter Caine. Peter looked uncomfortable, as if he didn't feel he belonged in the portrait, but the older man had an arm across the boy's shoulders and a twinkle in his eyes.

This must be Paul Blaisdell and his family. Caine had told him the Blaisdells had taken Peter in as a foster son after Caine's temple was destroyed.

Sam frowned and looked around the living room. Those four photos were the only truly personal items in the whole place. There were a few pieces of bric-a-brac and some framed art prints, but nothing other than those four images to give anyone any impression of the man who lived there.

Sam sighed. What had happened to Kermit Griffin to make him want to hide behind those green glasses and featureless living and work spaces?

He went back downstairs and hopped back into Peter's car. "Sorry, it took a little longer than I expected."

Peter started the car. "No problem. We're still running pretty early. Captain Simms will probably faint if I show up too early," He said with a grin. He pulled into a McDonald's drive thru.

"Are you still hungry?"

"No, but I'll take some coffee."

"Just don't spill it," Peter said, "I don't think they could afford another million dollar lawsuit," he teased.Sam reached into his pocket for change to pay for the coffee, but Peter waved it away.

"I'll get it from you later," he said. "Making it two orders just confuses the kids who work here."

They picked up their order and Peter drove on to the precinct. Karen Simms was impressed to see Peter arrive twenty minutes early for once and congratulated him on it.

"Kermit, could I see you in my office?" she asked as Peter sat down at his desk to attend to some paperwork.

Sam followed her into the glass enclosed office. She closed the door and the blinds before she walked over to stand in front of him. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked, cupping his face with her hands and tracing the small scar on his left cheek with her fingertips.

He covered her hand with his own. Caine had told him that Kermit Griffin and Karen Simms had a special relationship. It was something they both needed and he didn't want to blow it. From what little he knew of Kermit, he surmised that the ex-mercenary was not overly demonstrative of his affection as well as being very selective of those he decided to express his feelings to. "I'm fine, Karen," he said softly. He took her hand away from his cheek and held it tightly. "I didn't care much for the headache, but the awakening was rather nice."

She blushed and he leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips.

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and smiled as he pulled her into an embrace.

"Are we still on for "Man of La Mancha" tonight?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He kissed her again and pulled away slightly. "Now, as much as I'm enjoying this, I've got to go see what I can salvage of my computer."

"I've already filed the paperwork. You should have a new machine in less than a week."

He thanked her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before he left the office.

Al was waiting for him in Kermit's office. "About time you got here!" he snapped.

Sam closed the door and turned on the clock radio. "Why didn't you come back to Caine's?"

Al shrugged. "Something about that guy gives me the creeps, Sam," he protested.

"You're not just upset because he can see you?"

"That, too."

Sam couldn't suppress a grin. "Okay. So, why am I here?"

Al consulted the handlink. "According to Ziggy, there's a seventy-three percent chance you're here to save Captain Simms and Kermit."

"What?"

"They're supposed to have a stake..." Al whacked the handlink and it gave an indignant squeal. "Out? Oh, a stake-out today."

"Yeah, it's some sort of joint bust with the DEA."

"Well, in the original history, Kermit's reflexes were still a little ca-ca from that whack on the noggin he got yesterday and he missed a shot he ordinarily would have made. Then, his gun jammed. He cleared it and took out the sniper with his second shot, but the guy had already taken out Simms, some guy named Blake and your buddy there, Peter Caine. Blake died at the scene, Simms a few hours later at the hospital and Caine was paralyzed from the waist down."

Sam glanced out at the athletic young cop sitting on the desk of a pretty blonde officer and frowned. "What happened to Kermit?"

"Aw, he took it real hard, Sam. Nobody ever blamed him for what happened. It was a one in a million shot to begin with, even with that cannon he was carrying, but he never forgave himself. He started drinking heavily and he got so bad that not even Caine could talk to him. He ended up wrapping his car around a light pole about six weeks later. Kermit's death tore Peter up and, even though he'd been making progress, he just quit trying. He wound up dying of pneumonia and Caine vanished."

"Al, that's awful!" Sam muttered, "But these people are very close, I can see it happening. How can I stop it? I'm no good with a gun. There's no way I can make that shot if Kermit missed it." He removed the green glasses and laid them on the desk. "Especially with those things on."

"Well, you've got to find a way, Sam."

"Oh, boy."

[ [ [ [ [

Verbena Beeks watched in concern as the figure on the narrow bed struggled against the straps and cried out in his sleep. She knew a great many of the visitors experienced disturbing dreams during their stay in the waiting room. She, Al, Ziggy, and Sam had attributed it to being "out of time" and it usually passed quickly, but it seemed as though this man was reliving some experience from his past.

Al had informed her that Kermit Griffin had been a mercenary until only a few years earlier, so there was no way of knowing what he might be dreaming.

From checking the records of the family, she'd learned that his younger brother, David, had been murdered by a drug dealer and that event seemed to have been a catalyst to Griffin's stepping away from "the business." He'd suddenly just shown up on the roster of the 101st Precinct a few months after David Griffin's death.

She reached down and took his hand, relieved when his struggles abated and he drifted into a more normal sleep pattern.

She was still holding his hand when he woke sometime later.

He pulled his hand away and glared up at her.

"Would you like to tell me about your dream?" she asked.

"Not particularly."

"A lot of people who come through here have 'strange' dreams."

"What are you, a shrink?"

She nodded. "I'm the staff psychiatrist."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to put your couch somewhere else. I don't need your help."

"You're afraid?"

The look he gave her was full of anger. "Don't start, Doctor," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "We all have our demons, as Caine would say and I prefer to battle my demons alone. Go analyze somebody else. I'm beyond help."

"No one is beyond help."

"DON'T PATRONIZE ME!" he yelled. "Do you have any idea how disgusted people would be if they knew even a little of my mercenary past?"

"Your friend, Peter..."

"Peter's an innocent!" he snapped. "He may be a Shaolin cop, but he has no idea of the things Paul and I did." He sighed. "My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, and every tongue brings in a several tale, and every tale condemns me for a villain," he whispered.

"You're ashamed of these things?"

"Yes... NO! I'd do them again if I had to. If it would stop the Saddam Husseins and Khadafis of the world," he said, turning back to glare at her again.

"Then, you're a hero."

"I don't feel like a hero. I spent years walking through the filth of humanity. I've lived in jungles, eaten things that others would call garbage, or worse, and..."

"Lived to tell about it?" she said quietly. "When others you respected died."

"How did you..."

She put a hand on his shoulder and was pleased when he didn't pull away. "Kermit, your feelings aren't unique. In fact, after the life you've led, I'd be more concerned if you didn't have those feelings. Since you won't tell me anything, would you mind if I told you about a man I know? He shares some of the same demons. Oh, they're a bit different of course, but still similar."

"It doesn't look as though I can stop you."

She smiled. "This man was a pilot during the Vietnam War. You would have been too young..."

"I was there," he said quietly. "I lied about my age. It was almost over by that time. That was where I met Paul Blaisdell."

"Well, my friend was shot down and captured. He was kept as a P.O.W. for five years near Cham Hoi. The Viet Cong kept him and seven other men in 'tiger cages.'"

"Too small to lie down, too short to stand up. I know all about them."

"He managed to survive for five years despite malnutrition, torture and God knows what else. He came back with a terrible guilt that he'd survived - the only one out of the eight kept prisoner."

"So, where's he now? Some institution?"

"You met him last night, Kermit. He's an Admiral now. He's also the Project Observer, Al Callavicci."

"That guy in the weird clothes?"

She nodded. "Would you like to speak with him?"

"Maybe later." He frowned. "You're pretty sneaky, Beeks."

"Oh?"

"You managed to get into my head after all. I don't like it."

"That's what they pay me for."

"My curiosity's killing me. What exactly is this place?"

She smiled. "Well, Detective Kermit Griffin, you have the distinct honor of being the one hundredth person to Leap out of your own time."

"Run that by me again."

"I couldn't tell you before - we usually never tell the Leapees - but Al decided it was all right. Do you recognize the name: Sam Beckett?"

Kermit frowned. "Yeah, he's some sort of physicist. Won the Nobel Prize if I'm not mistaken."

"You're not. He had a theory that a person could time travel between certain points within their lifetime. He did it - he's doing it right now."

"I'm sorry, I don't believe you."

She pulled a compact from her pocket, opened it and handed it to him. "See for yourself. You're living proof."

Kermit stared into the small mirror and his mouth dropped open in shock. He was staring, not at his own reflection, but that of a man a few years younger with longish sandy hair, a narrow face, large thin nose and soft blue eyes. "What the hell?"

"You're looking at Dr. Sam Beckett," she informed him. "Dr. Beckett Leaped into the 101st Precinct just after you were injured."

"What does he see?"

"You."

"So, this is some kind of out of body experience?"

"We're not sure exactly. Sometimes Sam and the Leapee only trade souls, other times; they trade bodies. Based on your injuries, we think this time you two traded bodies and what we're seeing is his 'essence' laid over your body."

"Why? I mean, why does he do it?"

Beeks told him about the tragedy at the stake-out and its aftermath.

Kermit rubbed at his eyes. "Your theory is probably right," he said quietly. "Karen Simms is the one thing in my life that hasn't been touched by the things I did as a mercenary. If I... lost her..." He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "I - I don't even want to think about it."

"Then, let's hope that Sam is successful." She reached down and removed the straps. "If you'll promise to stay in bed, I think we can dispense with these. Are you sure you don't want to tell me about your dream?"

He shook his head. "Just a very painful memory."

"Afraid I'll get into your head again?"

He grinned. "Actually, it had to do with another time when I felt trapped."

"Is that what you feel now?"

"I've never enjoyed being helpless."

"None of us ever do."

He sighed and remembered the dream in all its vivid detail.  
He was back in the office building Latrodect had been using as his headquarters. The elevator doors opened and he spotted Emma, her face filled with terror, just coming out of the elevator with two armed men.

He shot the weapon out of the nearest man's hand and they threw Emma out onto the floor. He didn't hear the third man come at him from behind until it was too late. A heavy net was thrown over him. He threw himself against the nearest wall and managed to take out the third man, but it was as if his strength had been drained and he fell to the floor.

Suddenly, his whole body was on fire. The more he struggled, the tighter the fibers became and the pain intensified. His respiration and heartbeat increased, but every breath was a struggle and his body was shaking from the effort. He just couldn't seem to get any oxygen into his lungs. He couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't call for help. His mind screamed out in helpless rage.

Just as he was about to lose consciousness, Emma appeared. She knelt beside him and ripped an opening in the net. She pulled it away enough for him to get his head and arms out. He lay there, gulping in air, for a moment before he could turn to thank her, but she wasn't there, she'd vanished.

Finally, like a butterfly pulling itself from a cocoon, he managed to pull the rest of his barely responsive body from the remains of the web. He hated it, but he had to lie there on the floor until the burning and paralysis subsided somewhat and he could struggle to his feet. He had gone home and showered as soon as possible, but it had been days before the weakness and burning pain had passed.

He glanced over at the doctor. No, he couldn't tell her about his dream. As angry and hurt as he'd been at Emma's treachery and his own gullibility, he still felt a sense of gratitude. Emma could have left him there to die, but she'd cared enough to...  
"Sorry, Doctor. That particular dream is not for sharing," he said finally.

[ [ [ [ [

Peter parked the Stealth and took a deep breath. "I really hate these joint stake-outs. Something always goes wrong."

"Everybody in position?" Captain Simms asked over the radio.

"I got your sniper, Sam," Al said as various voices reported in.

"He's at the top of that building over there." The hologram pointed to a large building to Sam's right.

Sam opened the door and got out of the car.

"Kermit, where are you going?" Peter asked.

"I thought I saw something," Sam answered. "I want to check it out. I'll be right back." Sam ran off down the street.

"Caine, where the hell's Kermit going?" Strenlich bellowed over the radio.

"He said he saw something," Peter answered.

"What did he see?" Simms asked.

"I don't know. I didn't see anything."

"All right, people, keep an eye out for Detective Griffin. I'd rather not have to explain to his sister that he got caught in a crossfire."

Sam pounded around the corner, found the fire escape and clambered up the hanging ladder. He slowed as he got three or four flights from the top, not wanting the sniper to hear him.

"Over here, Sam!" Al called.

Sam turned to follow his friend's voice. The sniper was concentrating on his intended targets and wasn't aware of Sam until he tapped the man on the shoulder. As the gunman turned, Sam gave him a solid right cross and he slumped. Sam kicked the rifle out of reach, fished a set of handcuffs out of his jacket pocket and cuffed the man to a pipe that didn't look as if it was going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

"You did it, Sam!" Al crowed. "The rest of the bust goes off according to plan and nobody gets hurt. It goes in all the papers and on the TV news that this was the biggest bust made in the state in over twelve years. Kermit and Karen Simms wind up getting married in a couple of years and they adopt a baby that Karen Simms is gonna find in an alley. Peter becomes a Shaolin priest just like his father. Blake retires and goes off to teach electronics at the police academy."

Sam picked up the rifle. "So, why haven't I Leaped?"

Al poked at the handlink. "I don't know. Maybe..." He turned away. "Gooshie, what the hell's going on? Oh, Jeez! Later Sam."

"What's the matter?" Sam asked, but the hologram had vanished. He sighed, hefted the rifle and went on back down to the street. He unloaded the rifle and got back into Peter's car.

"What was all that about?" the younger man asked.

Sam handed him the rifle. "Don't let me forget about the owner of this thing."

"What?"

"They had a sniper on the roof, Peter."

"Great. You got him?"

"Oh, yeah."

"How'd you know he was there?"

"Old mercenary trick. Besides, that's what I would have done."

Peter nodded and radioed Captain Simms to let her know Kermit had returned.

After a few minutes, Simms and her DEA counterpart ordered the assembled officers to move in. Sam and Peter had their hands full cuffing and searching prisoners.

"Is that all of them?" Simms asked, looking into the nearly full prison bus.

"Oh, damn," Sam said. "One more, Captain." He dashed off and returned with the sniper. "I knew I was forgetting somebody."

The sniper cursed at him.

"Oh, please, don't you have any manners. There's a lady present!" Sam snapped.

[ [ [ [ [

Kermit looked up at a soft knock at the door. "Come on in," he called.

The door opened and a small man Kermit had never seen before slipped in. He had pop-eyes and a mass of curly hair. He rushed over to the bed. "We've got to get you out of here," he whispered.

Kermit nearly gagged at the stench coming from the other man's breath. "Who are you?"

"They call me "Gooshie." I'm the head computer technician. Listen, Admiral Calavicci - um - the guy who was in here earlier asking questions - he told me to get you someplace safe."

"Someplace safe? What the hell's going on?"

The smaller man's hands fluttered in anxiety. "Um..." He reached to help Kermit down off the bed. "Come on."

Kermit froze. "Look, Gushy, or whatever your name is - I'm not going anywhere without an explanation."

"Trouble topside," Gooshie began. "There's really no time to get into this."

"Try the Reader's Digest version, then."

Gooshie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making

Kermit back away. "Okay, one of the guards got drunk on duty and the admiral fired him - um - this was a few months back - anyway the guard, Ryan Hartman, came back with some other guys and they're..."

"Trying to take over," Kermit finished. "That's taking "going Postal" to a whole new level."

"That's what Al - um, Admiral Calavicci said."

"How can I help?"

"You can't. I've got to get you hidden someplace safe."

"Look, I was a mercenary for more than twenty years. I can take care of myself. Now, get me a weapon and let's take care of these bastards."

"You don't understand, Detective Griffin. We don't know what will happen to you or Dr. Beckett if you get killed."

"I'm willing to take that risk."

"What about Dr. Beckett?"

"What do you think he would he do?"

Gooshie sighed. "He'd find a way to protect the Project."

Kermit stood and nearly collapsed. "Damnit, I wish Dr. Beeks hadn't drugged me."

Gooshie pulled Kermit's arm across his shoulders. "She didn't. You hit your head back in your office, then fell off the bed when you arrived here."

"I've gotten hit on the head before."

Gooshie grinned. "But you've never Leaped before."

"You want to explain that?"

"Later maybe. Somebody named Caine said it was his fault. Al said something about a 'Hand of a Thousand Bells.' It didn't make much sense to me. Do you know what it means?"

Kermit couldn't resist a grin. So, Caine was responsible for this demon of a headache. "Oh yeah."

"Come on."

"How about some decent clothes? My feet are freezing."

Gooshie nodded and they hurried down the corridor.

Kermit tried to get a look at his surroundings, but it just seemed to be miles and miles of identical corridors. "It's like a rabbit warren."

"Dr. Beckett and Admiral Calavicci planned it that way for just such an occasion... if somebody did manage to get in, they'd have a hell of a time getting anywhere. I still get lost sometimes."

"Where is everybody?"

"It's after seven o'clock at night, non-essential personnel have gone home. The admiral is organizing the Security patrols to find those guys."

"I'm assuming you've got some sort of surveillance system."

Gooshie nodded. "Yeah, but the one place we know they've taken is the Security offices."

"And you've got no way to reroute it to... say a computer terminal?"

"Not for the whole Project. That's something Al wanted to implement, but we never finished it."

"Show me what you've got."

Gooshie led Kermit into a darkened room. He shut the door before he turned on the lights. He removed his lab coat and stuffed it into the opening at the bottom of the door.

"That should keep us safe for a while."

Kermit looked around. This was obviously someone's office, but, judging by the dust, it hadn't been used in quite a while. A bulletin board hung above the desk was covered with notes and photographs. Books and stacks of paper covered with computer code were lying on almost every horizontal surface.

"Whose office is this?" Kermit asked.

"Dr. Beckett's. There's supposed to be a voice pick-up in here. I just hope it hasn't been deactivated." Gooshie looked up at the ceiling. "Ziggy?"

"Yes, Gooshie."

Kermit looked around.

Gooshie grinned. "Ziggy's the Project's computer. Dr. Beckett designed and built her. She runs most of Project Quantum Leap."

Kermit nodded. "Okay, a voice activated computer."

"Oh, she's much more than that." Gooshie looked up again.  
"Ziggy, this is Kermit Griffin."

"Nice to meet you, Detective Griffin," a soft feminine voice responded.

"Call me Kermit," he said with a lop-sided grin. A talking computer, this could be fun.

"Very well, Kermit."

"Are you aware of the intruders?"

"Yes, but I have been unable to stop them. Al has put me under voice lock. I am to respond only to Al, Gooshie or Dr. Beckett's voice."

"And, for now anyway, you have Dr. Beckett's voice," Gooshie said.

Kermit frowned. "Can you relay the output from the surveillance system down here without alerting the people in the Security office?"

"Of course."

The monitor blinked on and images of different parts of the installation appeared on the screen like a slide show.

"Hold it," Kermit said suddenly. "Can you go back two?"

"Certainly."

The view changed to a large room. Tables and chairs were set in the center and vending machines ran along one wall. Several men with large guns were standing in front of the doors. About a dozen or so people in lab coats and suits were seated at the large table in the middle of the room.

Gooshie groaned. Al, Verbena and Tina were there at the table.

"Ziggy, can you zoom in on that man?" Kermit asked, pointing.

The image changed and Kermit swore.

"Do you know that man?"

"Oh yeah," Kermit answered. "That's Brian Munro. He's so bad he makes Saddam Hussein look like the Pope. Too bad we can't get audio."

"We can," Ziggy said. "One way or two way?"

"One way, sweetcakes, we don't want them to know we're  
here, at least not yet," Kermit said with a grin. "You can reset the view, too."

"Your wish is my command."

"I've gotta get me one of these," he told Gooshie.

"Ziggy's one of a kind."

The small speaker on the computer popped on. The invaders were doing a head count.

The leader, Munro, walked over to where Al sat with Tina and Beeks. "Where is the one you call Gooshie?"

"On vacation," Tina answered.

Munro frowned. He lowered the barrel of his gun and placed it beneath Tina's chin. "You want to try that again?"

"She told you," Al snapped. "He's on vacation. He left for Vegas this morning."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Search me."

"You allowed your chief computer technician to leave while a Leap was in progress, I don't think so."

"Gooshie's been under a lot of stress lately," Beeks chimed in. "We decided he needed some time off."

One of Munro's men backhanded Tina, making her cry out in pain. "We want the truth."

"We're telling the truth, you thick headed nozzle!" Al snapped. He reached to gather Tina in his arms. "What do you want?"

"We want access to the computer and files concerning Project Quantum Leap," Munro answered.

"Ziggy, lock me out!" Al shouted suddenly. "Trudy One."

The man who'd slapped Tina raised his weapon and fired.

Al dropped to his knees, clutching his right shoulder. "Bastard!" he yelled, his voice tight with pain.

Gooshie gasped and started for the door.

"No!" Kermit snapped. "We can't help them. At least not yet."

"But..."

"If we go running down there, we'll be just as trapped as they are. We've got to come up with a plan. Something the two of us can pull off."

"Excuse me."

"Sorry, Ziggy. Something the three of us can pull off."

Gooshie looked doubtful. "Like what?"

"I don't know... yet."

On the monitor, Verbena was trying to get Munro to let her treat Al's wound. The leader agreed finally, providing she use only what was available in the cafeteria.

Gooshie couldn't suppress a wince as two of the invaders lifted Al and dropped him roughly onto one of the tables. Al's face was pale and his breathing was ragged.

[ [ [ [ [

"Okay, Ziggy, that should do it," Kermit said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Show me the positions of Munro's men again."

Ziggy displayed a schematic of the interior of the Project with Munro's men indicated by flashing black squares and the Project personnel by steady white squares.

"Oh yeah!" Kermit said with a grin. "Bless your little capacitors! Okay, now show.. Ah!" He cried out and clutched the side of his head, the sudden intense pain nearly doubling him over.

"Maybe you should rest for a while," Gooshie suggested, pointing to the sofa.

Kermit took a deep breath and sat straighter in the chair. "N-no, there's no time," he said quietly. "We've... got to finish this."

Gooshie opened a couple of desk drawers until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small, white bottle, then ducked into the attached bathroom and returned with a paper cup of water. He held the cup and bottle out to Kermit "I'm probably breaking some sort of medical rule, but..."

Kermit glanced at the label. It was a common, over-the-counter, pain-killer. It wouldn't cure the almost blinding headache, but it might take enough of the edge off to let him think clearly. He opened the bottle, shook three tablets into his palm, transferred them to his mouth then washed them down with the water. He finished the last of the water and set the cup down on the desk. "Thanks." He sat in the chair with his eyes closed for a few moments.

"Are you cold?" Gooshie asked, worriedly.

"Yeah, but that may be helping a little," he admitted tiredly, missing his green glasses intensely.

Gooshie went to the tall locker across the room. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of dark purple sweatpants as well as a matching shirt with "Oh, boy" across the front in neon orange. "Al is always teasing Sam for being such a stick in the mud. He bought these to try and liven up his wardrobe, but Sam Leaped before he got a chance to wear them."

Kermit took the pants and pulled them on, standing briefly to pull them all the way up. He pulled the sweatshirt on and fingered the thick material. He felt warmer already.

Gooshie returned to the locker and pulled out a pair of white socks and running shoes. Kermit slipped them on and sighed, then closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair.

"Better?"

"Much."

Gooshie let Kermit sit for a few minutes before he spoke again.  
"May I ask a question?"

"Sure, what?" the ex-mercenary asked without opening his eyes.

"How are the two of us - er - three of us going to surround them?"

Kermit grinned. "Have you ever seen what happens when you disturb a hornet's nest?"

"They attack. They fly all over the place trying to find out what happened."

"Right."

"Okay."

Kermit opened his eyes and sat up. He felt a little better now. "Watch. Show us the cafeteria, Ziggy."

The image on the monitor changed. Gooshie noticed that Al was pale, but was sitting up in one of the chairs. His arm had been immobilized.

"Okay, Ziggy, let 'em have it."

On the screen, the lights began to strobe and an earsplitting horn sounded. Dr. Beckett's voice could be heard over the din. "Warning: The self-destruct device has been activated. You have five minutes to evacuate."

"There isn't any self-destruct device," Gooshie said in confusion.

Kermit grinned. "Munro and his men don't know that."

Just as Kermit had predicted, Munro and his men locked the Project personnel in the cafeteria and headed toward the exits.  
"Let me see the schematic, please."

The image changed back and all the black squares were moving quickly down the corridors.

"They're all yours, sweetcakes," Kermit said.

"Yes, Kermit. Extracting oxygen from intruders' location."

"But they'll die!"

"No, Dr. Beckett put an Asimov in Ziggy's program. I didn't even try to program around it. This will only knock them out. Let us know when they're unconscious, Ziggy."

"Yes, sir."

Gooshie was impressed. "Nice trick."

"Thank you." Kermit closed his eyes again and waited until Ziggy announced that the intruders were unconscious.

"Okay, sweetcakes. Release the Project Security and start bringing the oxygen up. Go slowly, we don't want them coming around before your guys can get to them."

"Yes, Kermit." Ziggy responded. "Security reports eight very groggy intruders in custody."

Kermit's grin of triumph vanished. "Eight? There should be nine."

"Security confirms eight."

"Damn. Give me the cameras again please."

Ziggy cycled through the images from the surveillance cameras.

"I don't see him," Gooshie said quietly.

Kermit frowned. "Ziggy, you're not picking him up?"

"No, Kermit."

"Try infrared."

"Nothing, Kermit."

"That's just not possible," Kermit insisted. He cocked his head as if listening to something. "Down!" he shouted, launching himself at the computer technician. The two of them hit the floor hard, Kermit's weight knocking the air from Gooshie's lungs just as the door exploded inward.

Kermit cried out as he felt something stab him in the back of the thigh. Wincing, he got to his feet, grabbed the first thing that came to hand, stuck it into the waistband of the sweatpants and limped toward the door.

"That's far enough," a male voice said from the corridor. "Come out slowly."

Kermit sighed, held up his hands in defeat and limped out through the shattered remains of the door.

"I must admit, you've given me a good fight, Dr. Beckett," Munro said.

Kermit shrugged. If Sam could pretend to be him, maybe he could pretend to be Sam for just a few moments. "What do you want?"

"That's obvious, isn't it? I want control of Project Quantum Leap."

"Why?"

"Dr. Beckett, I was told you were a genius. Surely you know."

"You want to change history."

"Very good."

"I try."

"You may put your hands down. Better yet, why don't you put them behind your back."

"Okay." Kermit did as he was told.

"Now, we will go to the control room and you will show me how to operate the equipment."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Kermit told the other man.

"And why not?"

Ignoring the pain in his thigh, Kermit exploded into motion. He pulled the stapler he'd palmed from the waistband of the sweatpants and hurled it at Munro.

The mercenary reached to bat it away and Kermit threw himself at the larger man. Munro punched Kermit in the face and his head snapped back. Kermit hit Munro in the ribs before Munro managed to land a solid punch to Kermit's stomach and the ex-mercenary landed a fist in Munro's jaw. They grappled for the gun and it went off, echoing in the empty corridors. The two men lay unmoving on the floor for a moment before

Kermit, his face tight with pain and exertion, hauled himself to his feet and stumbled back into the office.

Gooshie was wavering slightly, but he was back on his feet as Kermit entered. The computer technician gasped as he saw the blood trickling down from a wound above Kermit's left eye.

"You should see the other guy," Kermit quipped before he dropped to his knees and fell forward onto the floor with a groan.

He was barely aware of being laid gently onto a stretcher and taken to the Project's infirmary. He was lifted onto a table and his wounds treated before he was helped into a bed to rest.

Al was lying on another bed a few feet away. He looked awful, but he was yelling orders to anybody nearby.

"I hear you and Beeks came to an understanding," Al said quietly.

"You could call it that."

"Yeah, well, Beeks and I don't always get along too well, but she knows her stuff."

"She wanted me to talk to you," he frowned up at the ceiling. "Before this Munro business started. She said you and I have a lot in common."

Al nodded. "She says I'm Sam's success story, but she's helped me a lot over the years. I don't think I would make it sometimes with all the things Sam goes through during a Leap. I felt bad for a long time that I couldn't do more to help him," he admitted.

The Project Observer told Kermit how he and Sam had met and that Sam had helped him stop drinking. Sam had also gone to bat for him with the Star Bright committee when his reputation as an alcoholic had nearly kept him off the Project. He owed Sam his life.

Dr. Beeks stood out of sight behind a partition. She had still been concerned about Kermit's mental state. Ziggy had told her privately that Kermit still had the potential for some sort of stress reaction brought on by guilt, but, listening to the two men discuss their pasts made her smile. Kermit would make it, she realized. He had come this far without burning out, he'd find his own sort of peace and she knew that Kwai Chang Caine would probably be his best ally. The memories of his mercenary past would remain, but somehow they would become easier to accept as time passed.

[ [ [ [ [

Sam was having dinner with Karen Simms when Al appeared. He excused himself and walked toward the men's room.

"Al, what happened?" he asked in concern, seeing the sling on his friend's right arm.

"Everything's all right now. Thanks to Kermit."

"What the hell happened?"

Al told him about the terrorists and how Kermit, Gooshie and Ziggy had worked together to stop them. "Munro's dead and Kermit's in the infirmary."

"Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he's fine, just a little sore."

Sam nodded. "So, when do I Leap?"

Al shrugged then winced as pain raced through his injured shoulder. "I don't know, Sam. This Leap's been real erratic. Ziggy just says to stand by."

[ [ [ [ [

As the blue light surrounding him faded, Kermit became aware of music and a deep voice singing. He blinked, trying to get his bearings. When he concentrated on the words he grinned behind his green glasses.

"To fight for the right, without question or pause. To be able to march into hell for a heavenly cause."

"Kermit?"

He turned to see Karen Simms sitting beside him, her face filled with concern. He took her hand and squeezed it tightly. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he remembered what Dr. Beeks had told him about the stake-out, but she was here, alive and beautiful in her black, velvet dress. He leaned over and kissed her. His leg protested his movement and he couldn't suppress a wince.

"Perhaps we should have come another night," she said. "You don't look well."

He actually felt fine despite a slight headache. He was glad the single stitch the Project doctor had insisted on to close the small cut above his eye was safely hidden in his eyebrow. He felt better than he had in a long time. He was glad he'd had the chance for that long talk with Admiral Calavicci while they'd been resting after the doctor had treated them.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He grinned then sighed and put an arm across her nearly bare shoulders and pulled her closer so that her head rested on his shoulder. Holding her hand tightly in his, he said, "Oh, yeah."

[ [ [ [ [

Sam waited for the slight disorientation of the Leap to pass.

When his vision cleared, he found he was sitting at a cloth covered table in what was obviously an outdoor restaurant. A plate of eggs and sausage links was staring up at him from a blue and yellow plate.

Okay, food I can handle, he thought in relief.

He shivered a little in the morning chill. At least, he assumed it was morning, since he was having breakfast. He looked up to see a bright red and white, open-sided tent stretching above him.

For a moment, he couldn't figure out why he should be so cold. Then, he looked down to find out and couldn't hold back a sharp yelp as he realized he was stark naked!

"Something wrong with your breakfast, George?" a woman's voice asked from nearby.

"N-no, everything's fine," he replied without looking up. He reached a trembling hand to pick up the glass of water beside his plate. He'd never been much of a drinker, but right about now, he could use something a good deal stronger than water. As he took a sip, a belly button stepped into view and he choked on the water he had almost, but not quite swallowed.

"Whatsa matter, George, that water got bones in it?" a man's voice teased from behind him.

The belly button moved on and Sam caught his breath. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked around. At least, he wasn't alone in his nudity for, except the waitress standing beside the coffee maker who wore an apron, everyone else in the tent was as naked as he was.

Sam ran a hand down his face and sighed. "Oh boy."


End file.
